


Maritime

by That_Lone_Nightingale



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Jim likes pointy ears, M/M, kink meme fill, merman!jim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Lone_Nightingale/pseuds/That_Lone_Nightingale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The most interesting observation made, was of the scaled, fish-like tail stirring in the waters the man-if he could be called such- suddenly sprung from. It caught the light with every languid sway, causing it to glisten a golden hue under the cover of the sparkling sea. Spock had never seen such a thing. His inability to look away said as much.</p>
<p>"Quite unusual," Spock murmured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Hobby

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the prompt: Imagine Spock fishing on a pier then seeing merman!Jim sunbathing on some rocks, then dropping his fishing rod when merman!Jim swims right up to him and leaps straight into his personal space.
> 
> "Hi. Hello. I'm Jim. Your ears are cute. You're cute. Wanna be my mate?"
> 
> AU, of course.

Had Spock been human, a contented sigh would have left him at that moment.

Being the half-Vulcan he was, he allowed his equivalent of one; a slightly audible exhale through the mouth. The clear waters below swayed rhythmically, licking against the sides of the pier which held Spock. The occasional call of a gull cut through the sea-scented air. Not a cloud dotted the vibrant blue skies of Earth, allowing the cool bodied Vulcan to keep comfortable in the sweltering sunlight. It all put a spell of meditative ease over Spock, one he hadn't achieved since his arrival five point two days ago.

It was his mother's sudden prompting that brought him here. ("Spock, you should visit grandpa with mommy!" "Mother, again, I am not a child. I would greatly appreciate you not using that tonality with me." "…I'll stop if you come. It'll make mommy happy.")

Amanda always took whatever chance she had to visit her home planet. His father would go with her now and again, and Spock himself had met with multiple members from the Terran side of his heritage. Over the years, however, his devotion to his studies kept him occupied while his father's duties as Ambassador had always kept his presence irregular. The amount of time he spent with Amanda had decreased as the years went on. A fact that he, inwardly and discreetly, found mildly disconcerting.

Previous times where he'd declined, his mother graciously accepted his refusal, but the blatant disappointment grew more prominent on her face with each turned down offer. She was used to it by then, but he knew she was lonely-even if he supposedly to have no grasp on the emotion himself.

That is why Spock found it logical-(That, and having his mother end her use of 'baby-talk' lest another heard her)- to make use of his allotted time off to join her. It was a plausible solution to quell the stir of emotion within him and to satisfy his mother; the added warmth in her smile made his choice all the more valid.

Although, he had miscalculated the degree of…enthusiasm of his human relatives. As simple as the act of hugging appeared, it placed a hard strain on a touch telepath-on Spock, who normally required fifteen point six inches between himself and surrounding persons.

And, also, the onslaught of masses of very openly emotive humans in general.

Tactile creatures. Very tactile creatures  _everywhere_.

To sum things up, regardless of the Vulcan's previous trips to Earth, -which were far and few in between-, the stark contrast between its inhabitants and those of his own home planet would always present a strain upon him. He was graciously thankful for his mother at certain moments. Ones like when Melvin, his grandfather, made motions to shake his hand, forgetting a Vulcan's stand on physical contact. Especially concerning their hands. A very awkward situation, as Amanda put it.

Trips out to shops and several venues proved tedious. The streets overflowed with people; roared with their simultaneous conversions and rushing about. It was a reoccurring event for someone to bump into Spock now and again. Spare, loose thoughts would invade his mind and linger depending on their intensity. And, he learned, humans illogically focused an unreasonable amount of energy mulling over mundane things. It was so bad that Spock found himself pressing his fingers against his temples.

Some would even touch him purposely; tapped his shoulder, gawked, and questioned if he was really Vulcan. Which Spock thought the fact was obvious, but his response of, "Clearly. Perhaps, if you are doubtful of your observation skills, an eye exam would be advisable." gained negative reactions. They only added to his headaches.

Extra meditation assisted in fortifying his psyche barriers, yet did not keep all the outside, blaring emotions and thoughts from his notice. Human did not feel as deeply as Vulcans...but they certainly felt 'loudly'. It made relaxing difficult, even with him closing himself off more in addition to his mothers' efforts. He was simply unused to the poignant world.

**{§§§}**                                  

Then, Melvin suggested fishing.

"It's always been a good stress reliever for me. Seeing as how you've been looking  _subtly_  constipated for the last few days, I thought you should give it a shot," Melvin had explained while showing him the mechanics behind assembling and working a fishing rod, looking bemused at Spock's raised eyebrow and muttering of 'Interesting'.

When Spock mentioned his body's proficiency and that his regular flow of waste disposal wasn't hindered by 'the clogging of his bowels', Melvin tossed back his head and outright laughed.

**{§§§}**

 

Spock lightly pressed his index finger against the thin fishing line, regarding the rod before casting it for the tenth time that afternoon.

He'd been highly curious about how it could be considered relaxing beforehand; casting out a hooked line, waiting with varying probabilities of catching marine life forms, and, once that was finally achieved, releasing them back to the sea, then repeating the process all over. Spock initially believed it an unnecessary harassing of aquatic organisms.

Now he truly respected the act of leisurely pursuit in the form of fishing. He even considered it cathartic. Spock also took the liberty to catalog the characteristics of multiple species of fish he'd caught into his personal research databases. It would be illogical not to take advantage of his new pass time, and he found it just as enjoyable.

And on days like the current one, wherein not a single nibble could be felt at the end of the line, Spock just silently reveled in the solitary-physically and mentally-peace. Fishing rod loose in his hand, straight posture slightly slackened, and feet dangling from the wooden pier.

Inclining his head, Spock turned his skyward gaze to the calm waters below. With a calculated pace he slowly reeled in the line, watching the ripples caused by its disturbance break across the surface. For some unknown reason, he followed a particular chain of them until they ended against a cluster of jutting rock formations.

It was then that he saw him.

Arranged in a relaxed manner atop the rocks, a human male lay.

Completely nude.

Or, that is what Spock deduced-for the angle of the rocks blocked his view southward on the man- as he drew his eyes up the display of sharp hip bones, up the smooth and well-toned expansion of sun-kissed flesh, to the enticing arch of a craned neck and the taunt muscles within arms folded beneath a head of golden-brown hair.

Twin brows rose and disappeared above Spock's fringe.

Attention totally ensnared, Spock watched, transfixed, as the man exhaled and tilted his head towards him. The excellent range and clarity of his eyesight provided Spock with a clear view of his unexpected company's closed eyes, and the thick lashes holding water droplets against his cheekbones.

Why hadn't he heard him swimming? The area which Spock fished was deserted, save for him. He would notice another's approach. The questions roused within his mind, though Spock vaguely gave it any attention. He would've been disturbed by his lack of care, but the stranger's eyes were opening.

A pair of ultramarine eyes, so unbelievable blue that they rivaled the water filling the space between them, caught his slightly widened ones. Spock became dry mouthed, the sensation of something odd buzzing in his side. He held the stranger's stare, with what he hoped was a stoical guise.

That guise slipped, however, when the man gave Spock a dazzling smile; brilliant white teeth and all. The result was an almost visibly stunned Vulcan with a questionable feeling in his stomach likened to a bundle of hectic knots.

Before the feeling could pass and Spock fixed his minor slip up, the man was gone. With a flash of gold and a splash as he plunged back into the sea. After five minutes, Spock still kept his eyes glued to the spot atop the rocks.

To say he was intrigued would have been a grievous understatement.

 

 

 


	2. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions so far! Here's the second chapter, though I warn now that it might be awhile before I update again.

Once again, Spock mused on Earth's tactile creatures.

Earth's very invasive, tactile creatures.

More specifically, the one currently leaning up across his lap; with a hand rising with purpose towards Spock's face and the other finding purchase on his right leg. Had he not been so momentarily stunned by the boldness of this strange person, he would have pulled away immediately. The degree of his surprise was so great, he dropped the fishing rod. There was an eighty-three point five chance that Melvin would not take him losing his equipment lightly.

"Oh wow," The man spoke, fingertips ghosting along Spock's ear. His voice held an opulent air to it that smoothed right over Spock's senses. The light contact of fingertips upon his ear tingled. Spock suppressed a shiver. "They  _are_  pointy. Huh, never seen that before."

The most interesting observation, however, was the scaled, fish-like tail stirring in the waters the man-if he could be called such- suddenly sprung from. It caught the light with every languid sway, causing it to glisten a golden hue under the cover of the sparkling sea. Spock had never seen such a thing. His inability to look away said as much.

"Quite unusual…," Spock murmured. Meeting the now apparent non-human vibrant eyes, he lightly took a hold of his wrist, tugging his hand away. He felt a frown pull at his lips when the man simply crossed his arms over Spock's lap. However, the action seemed to ground the Vulcan; he had still yet to pull away.

"Nah, just different."

Tilting his head, Spock inclined a brow in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

Hands gestured to his head, and then carded together above his thighs. "Your ears. They're not 'unusual'. I actually find them cute. Hell _, you're_ cute."

His personal space was then invaded even more. The creature rose up, palms pressed on either side of Spock's thighs, causing the Vulcan to lean back. The man followed. Their chests nearly touched, and Spock's hasty shuffle backwards was the only thing that signaled his surprise and-oddly- minimal discomfort. In fact, the gasp that left him at the feeling of layered scales rubbing against his knees seemed to be a positive response, as he halted in his retreat.

Something was not right. With this creature, this situation, and Spock himself. The insistent tugging he felt since lying eyes on…whatever he was. It was some form of attraction; strong and growing the longer he kept company with this forward, oddly curious person. It was something he was taught not to acknowledge, to feel, along with any other emotion, yet it was there and impossible to ignore. What perplexed him the most was; why so suddenly like this? Perhaps it had something to do with the cause of it all?

The male noticed his silence, and took it as permission to place himself between Spock's spread legs. Water droplets peppered down and soaked Spock's tunic as tan arms braced along his sides. The tail in place of legs came into better view, meshing perfectly with the human looking flesh of his waistline and trailing down with transparent, thin fins fanning out at its end. Again, Spock had difficulty looking away from it.

Situated as though the most practical place was hunched over top of a Vulcan, he stared down at Spock with curiosity and fascination. Spock, at a loss of what to do and unable to draw himself away, continued their conversation to give his mind a moment to function properly.

"You misinterpreted what I was referring to."

"Hmm?"

"When you spoke of your…appreciation for my ears, you thought my earlier comment was related to them. It was not, as it is normal for them to be shaped that way, and I was actually regarding the fact that you are not quite human."

Something swatted at his foot, then hit the deck of the pier with a wet  _smack_. "What gave it away? The tail, or my devilish good looks?" The man smirked, shifting to prop up on an elbow, resting his chin in his hand. The other moved to fiddle with a green tinged ear. He gave a mock pout when Spock removed his hand.

"The former of the two," the Vulcan nearly grumbled. Appealing or not, it still felt uncomfortable being touched so freely.

"Well I figured the tail would be a dead giveaway...and an answer to that question in your eyes as to what I am."

When Spock merely blinked, the man frowned and arched an eyebrow.

"You know…creature of the sea, half mortal half mackerel…keeps lonely seamen company, often accused of luring them to a sweet, watery grave?" Spock spotted the tail waggle just over the man's shoulder, as if for emphasis. "Sirens are responsible for that, by the way."

The answer had clicked insistently in his mind, but he found it so utterly illogical that he hesitated. "Mermaids are creatures of myth and children's' books. They are not real."

A look Spock figured to be exasperation crossed the alleged mermaid's face. "Yeah, yeah. But what would you call this fine piece of mer _man_  right here?"

A silent moment passed. "Relatively pretentious." Spock replied dryly.

That got him a laugh, filled with such feeling that he felt it within his side, thumping with his heartbeat. The way the merman's eyes lit up also disrupted his breathing for a moment.

"You've known me, what, ten minutes and already the James T. Kirk charm is workin' on you."

"James T. Kirk charm?" Having people find you pretentious was considered an outcome of  _charm_?

"Yup. Self-confidence in large quantities seems to grabs attention better. Keeps a person talking to you, keeps them interested…and mildly irritated. Everyone down there," He jabbed a thumb to the expansion of water behind him. " is so damn skittish and elusive it's  _boring_. And really, can you say no to this smile?"

He winked and flashed Spock with another one of those grins. "If it wasn't apparent before, I'm James T. Kirk. But you can call me Jim."

"I am Spock." He heard himself reply with automatic decorum.

"Spock…Spooock." Jim crooned, drawing his tongue along his bottom lip as if Spock's name was something to savor. The Vulcan's eyes followed the action of their own will. "Again, different. But I like it! Pleasure making your acquaintance Mr. Spock."

"And yours…Jim. Through, I must remark on the unorthodox events leading up to our introductions." He replied, forcing his limbs to work and move, and his Vulcan sensitivities to take some semblance of control. Shuffling back, he put a good amount of breathing space in-between him and Jim. He wasn't sure if it was disappointment that flashed across Jim's face.

"Oh?"

"Indeed. It is not customary or polite to startle someone in way of greeting. Nor is blatant disregard for their personal space."

Jim contemplated. Then smirked. "You got me there. Honestly, I don't just randomly pounce up on strangers...often." Laughter danced in his cerulean eyes. "Especially ones with legs."

Spock found that rather hypocritical. "Yet you thought it appropriate to do such to me?"

"Yep." Jim said with a curt nod.

"May I inquire as to why?"

Suddenly the drawn-out sound of the rough wood against Jim's tail cut through the gulls' cries. His gaze never left brown eyes as he preformed a slow crawl up the Vulcan's very stiff form, like a climbing tide. Fingers crept along clothed thighs in minute exploration, then clenched and pulled. An electric pulse buzzed along the contact, tingled against the back of Spock's mind. Now nearly pressed upon a side vibrating with rapid thumping, an alluring invitation filled the merman's eyes.

Spock couldn't move nor breathe. He was trapped, lost at sea within Jim Kirk's gaze. Drifting along the currents of his voice.

"Because, I've heard first impressions make  _lasting_  impressions. And I'd like you to remember me." The merman tilted his head, angled it so his lips, which slowly spread into a grin, were only inches from Spock's.

A hitching exhale was his only reaction, and Jim's grin widened as he asked with raised brows, "Wanna be my mate?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alluring merman is alluring.

**Author's Note:**

> Maiden fic here on AO3. Whooop. First time doin' a kink meme fill too. Double whooop! 
> 
> I've come to really love this site, so I figured I'd post something. If there are any errors spotted, please let me know.


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